Last summer I posted a blog about my possessed Toyota.  It’s called Trevor Christine if you need to catch up.  It occurred to me that some people may doubt the validity of my story.  So I decided to prove it.  The proof quest took some time because, well, I kept forgetting to document the odd behavior until I was driving.  Or maybe Trevor Christine knew what I was up to and foiled my attempts?   Hmmm.

Think I’m a fibber?

Yesterday I finally remembered to film my proof.

I clicked play and pushed my radio buttons and… it worked.  Clever Trevor Christine.  Clever.  I erased the first attempt.

Then I thought, you know, I think I’ll keep all the attempts I make to show everyone my possessed car.  The failed attempts will more fully prove my point.  I think.  Or demonstrate that I’m slightly nuts.  Either or here.

Notice how innocent it acts.  I should mention that between my first attempt in the parking lot at work and this attempt in my garage at home, it did not work at all.  I was stuck listening to a stupid song all the way home because when I tried to change the station it would turn off completely – and ejected the CD.

The next day I decided to try again.  Same parking lot at work.  Same time of day as the very first attempt.

Right.  I told you it is possessed.  Possessed things sure are stinkers.

So, I tried tricking it.  I pulled out of my spot but before I pulled out of the parking lot I tried again.

All right, this car proved a worthy opponent.

Let’s not go into details on how I procured this footage (it’s not important).  Game, set, match.

I admit, for, uh, reasons unknown the first part of the videography is so bad it’s hard to tell what’s going on until the end.  Trust me when I say that the first button I pushed was radio preset one.  It not only turned off the radio but also ejected the CD.

Let’s not lose sight of what the important here, people.  The fact is I drive a possessed car.  At the very least, Trevor Christine is a little stinker.  Right?